Worlds collide
by jesusfreak7777777
Summary: Harold Maximian Snape runs into Harold James Potter. literally. Please r
1. Disclaimer

I own nothing that you recognize and everything you don't.  


	2. Confusion

Harold Maximian Snape narrowed his eyes as he dove for the Snitch.

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Harold James Potter narrowed his eyes as he dove for the Snitch.

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As Snape's fingers closed around the tiny golden ball, he collided with the Gryffindor Seeker and everything went black.

                                                  ~*~*~*~*~*        

            As Potter's fingers closed around the tiny golden ball, he collided with the Slytherin Seeker and everything went black.

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                        I woke up, but didn't open my eyes.  It was a little game I played with myself.  Try to see if I could deduce where I was without opening my eyes.  I sniffed.  Clean.  Not the old piss smell of the dungeons.  Or the wet stone smell of the dorm.  Didn't smell like the outdoors.  I thought back.  I couldn't remember falling asleep so I must've been knocked out.  Ah!  Now I remember.  A Quidditch accident.  I ran into the Gryffindor Seeker.  Bloody idiot can't fly.  I hope I got the Snitch at least.  How embarrassing if I got myself knocked out and didn't even win the game.  

Well the fact that I was 'injured' meant I was in the Hospital Wing.  That is the what 3rd time this year?  Madam Pomfrey bustled, yes bustled, over to me and forced a potion down my throat.  When I first heard the definition for the verb 'to bustle' I thought that in no way it could describe a human.  Well, I was wrong.  Pomfrey bustles.  All the time.  

The next thought to flow through my wandering mind was the whereabouts of my father.  He had always been there when I had gotten hurt before, sitting by my bed, holding my hand, as much as it embarrassed me.  Yes, I, Harold Maximian Snape, the Boy-Who-Lived, am a teenage boy.  As much as I try to pass myself off as being so intelligent and emotionless when dealing with all but my closest friends (and enemies), I do still occasionally feel normal emotions.  The trick is not to let them show.  Before I could ponder the absence of my father for too long, the effects of the sleeping potion, for that is what it was, took hold and I became dead to the world.

~*~*~*~*~*

            I slowly drifted into consciousness.  It was like a television station that I was trying to focus.  Things came and went, but one thing stayed.  A constant pressure in my hand.  I finally managed to get the antenna pointed in the right direction and realized where I was.  The Hospital Wing.  What had happened?  I did not remember then, but Hermione and Ron explained to me later.  Quidditch accident.  I looked at the person holding my hand.  Bloody hell!  Screamed my mind and throat at the same time. 

            "Harold Maximian Snape," admonished Professor Snape.  "What have we discussed regarding your foul language?"  I stared blankly at him.  What did he call me?  We had a discussion that was not a fight?  My confusion must have shown on my face.

            "Are you alright Harry?"  Asked the greasy-haired git.  Except his hair wasn't so greasy.  And he didn't look like a git.  He looked _worried_.  

            "Perhaps you wish to rest more?"  He asked.  I nodded, as best I could.  I hurt all over.  Maybe he sensed that and took pity on me.  Or maybe he truly cared, I know now that the second reason is the truth, but anyway he gave me a potion that eased the pain and left without another word to me.  I did hear him pause outside the door.

            "Where do you think you three are going?"  He inquired of several someones in the hallway.  An unfamiliar voice replied.

            "We wanted to visit Harry, Professor."  Silence reigned for a moment and I could imagine Snape glaring at the three, they must be, students in the hallway.

            "Alright then Blaise," he replied in a tone that would have been kind had it not been Snape.  And since when did he call students by their first names?  And who the hell is Blaise?  These thoughts flashed through my brain so quickly they almost didn't register.  Then I heard a very familiar voice.          

            "Thank you, sir," replied Hermione and I rejoiced.  Where there was Hermione, there was Ron, and I would finally get some answers.

~*~*~*~*~*

A/N Please r&r  I've started Ch2 but don't really know where this story is going.  I'm open to any suggestions.  Please criticize constructively.


	3. Revelations

A/N This is from Snape's POV.  I think.  Harry Snape, I mean.  They'll alternate from here on out.  Next chappie about Potter then Snape then Potter then Snape.  You get the idea.

I woke up to find Hermione and Ron sitting by my side.  And, members of the Gryff Quidditch team?  That's weird.

            "Alright there Harry?"  Asked one of the Chasers.  Always had a hard time telling those blokes apart.  I grasped the idea that I would not get any answers as long as the Quidditch team was in the room so I mumbled something that got them out of the room.

            "That was a nasty fall, Harry," Hermione stated as the door clicked shut.  I stared at her, then and her and Ron's linked hands.  What the hell was going on?  She was my girlfriend and Ron was dating Blaise so what were they doing holding hands?  I let that one go for a moment.

            "Where's Dad?"  I asked quickly.  "And Blaise?"  My Gryffie friends stared at me like I had gone crazy.

            "Harry," Hermione began as if she was talking to a small child.

            "It hasn't burned, has It?"  I interrupted her.  What was I saying?  Of course It hadn't burned.  He's dead.  And besides, wouldn't mine burn, too?

            "Harry," Hermione tried again. 

            "Are they okay?  Blaise wasn't hurt, was she?  Her dad got her didn't he?  I don't know how.  I mean we're at Hogwarts and she should have been safe here."  I was rambling and I knew it.  I was worried about Blaise.  That girl has been worrying me for four years.

            "Harry!"  Ron yelled.  I glared at him.

            "What Ron?"  I asked in my most pompous, Snape-like manner.  Hermione answered.

            "Your parents are dead, Harry," she whispered softly.  Be still oh mine heart.  I felt like someone had replaced my life-giving blood with liquid nitrogen.  Yeah, that cold.  And it hurt.  Merlin, it hurt.  Why didn't I go through the usual denial stage?  Maybe because I knew that Hermione was telling the truth, and, in a way, she was.  It was the truth as she believed it, and it was the truth in that place.  But I'm getting ahead of myself here.  I do that so much it's surprising I don't trip over myself.  Back to describing how I felt when I learned that my father was dead.  It was hell.  Contradictory when I stated earlier that I was cold, but it's the truth.  I don't like that word.  It's really how I felt.  Cold all over and at the same time hot all over.  Hermione laid her hand on my arm.

            "Harry?"  She asked.

            "That's my name, don't wear it out," I stated cheerfully.  Yeah, I was that fucked up.  I started laughing.  Then the laughter became sobs.  But no tears.  I don't cry.  Never have and never will.  My friends had backed away from me during this.  Apparently Harry doesn't act like this.  Well, they summoned courage from somewhere and walked over to my bed.  Ron put his arm on my shoulder.

            "Mate?"  He asked.  I stopped all motion.  That includes breathing.  It freaked them out and they shouted for Pomfrey who started beating me on the back.  I refused to give in and blacked out from lack of oxygen.  Unfortunately, since my body could get oxygen, I was just not obtaining any for myself while awake, I started breathing again after I passed out.  That means I woke up.  I hadn't wanted to do that.  Life for me was over and there was really no reason to live anymore.  Or so I thought.  I woke to find Dumbledore sitting by my bed.  They must have really worried about me to send the Headmaster in to my bedside.  I took one look at him and rolled over to face the wall.

            "What's wrong, Harry?"  I snorted at this.

            "You know the answer so why bother ask the question."  I didn't ask this.  It wasn't meant to be a question.  He didn't answer me.  He was shocked by my response, I could tell that.  Harry's not usually that blunt or even that bright.  

            "How did it happen?"  I finally asked.

            "Voldemort."  I nodded.  Who else could hurt him?  Hurt me?  Want to hurt both of us.

            "When?"

            "Halloween 1981.  The same night your mother died and you survived the Killing Curse, leaving the Dark Lord bodiless."  This caught my attention.  My mother was murdered that night and the man thought to be my father died also, but my father lived.  He wasn't even there.  Then I remembered what my father had explained to me as soon as I was old enough to understand.  Lily Snape posed as the wife of James Potter to be safe.  To keep me safe.  For my father was a Death-Eater spy and lived a dangerous life.  Voldemort went after Potter because he was an Auror and dangerous.  That meant he also wanted Potter's 'son'.  My mother had died because she tried to protect me.  

My father felt Voldemort's demise and intuitively knew what had happened.  He Apparated to the house and got me out of there.  My name was legally changed (again) and I have lived as his son ever since.  What if he had never gotten there?  What if Lily Evans really had been the wife of James Potter?  It seems as though I had stumbled onto the 'what if'.  Now I needed to find out if Severus Snape was my father in this alternate universe and how to get back to my own world.  Because if I was here, where was Harry Potter?  And, if everything, and everyone, is the same except for that one fact, Dad would have been a git to everyone, especially the son of James Potter.  Harry Potter was in for a bit of a nasty shock.

As I mused, Dumbledore had left.  I spotted my robes and grabbed them, slipping them on.  I almost didn't notice it, but there it was, the Gryffindor House Prefect Badge.  Bloody hell.  Potter really was a 'good' guy.  I quickly made my way to the Library.  It was the only place I would find some answers, and the potion I needed.  Yes, I take after my father in that area.  Potions is my strongest area.  Defense, I later learned, is Potter's.  I found the potion I would need to discover my lineage, or, at least the lineage of Potter.            It seems I was stuck in his body, as I had discovered earlier while passing a mirror.  It upset me that I was an almost carbon copy of James Potter.  Except for my eyes.  My mother's eyes.  Gone was the silky hair that was so black it was red in certain lighting.  Gone were the tapered fingers and tall, lanky frame.  Instead I had short black hair that was everywhere.  I wasn't exactly short, but I wasn't very tall, either.  Rather than being lanky, I was all skinny.  A stick.  Potter really needed to work out.  Bulk up a bit and then he would look all in proportion.  Since I look like Potter, I probably also had his blood and any strange quirks that he might have.  Like recurring nightmares, but I'm used to them.  I'm not so used to them without the help of my father's potions, but once again I am getting ahead of myself.  Luckily I only needed to steal a few ingredients from my father's private stores to make the lineage potion.  Hopefully, the Severus Snape in this world used the same wards as the Severus Snape in my world.  

As I did not know the password to Gryffindor Tower and thought it would be weird if someone saw the House Prefect trying to guess the password, I decided to stay in the Library until someone found me.  And until that happened, I could look for a way to get home.  I miss my father, and Blaise, too.  I hope she's okay.  Hermione interrupted my thoughts and admonished me for disappearing without telling anyone where I was going.  It seemed she had forgotten the way I had acted earlier.  Seemed being the key word.  I checked out a couple books that looked like they contained information useful to getting me the hell out of this nightmare and let Hermione lead me quietly back to the Common room.  

~*~*~*~*~*


	4. Hermione Figures It Out

From Harry Potter stuck in Harry Snape's body POV

I sat up and greeted Ron and Hermione.  They were followed by a girl I recognized as Blaise Zabini, a sixth year Slytherin.  Hermione practically threw herself on me.  She was crying 'Are you alright?' over and over again.  When she finally determined that I was, indeed, alright, she began yelling at me that I had scared the shit out of her.  Hold up.  Stop.  Rewind.  Hermione cussed?  That's weird.  She finally ran out of steam and let Blaise loose on me.  She was not as much to an extreme as Mione, but she made it clear that she had been worried about me.  I managed to convince them that I was perfectly fine.  Then I started the interrogation.

            "What happened?"

            "You ran into Dean and fell off your broom," Hermione replied.  I gaped at her.  

            "How did that happen?"  I asked stupidly.  Blaise rolled her eyes.

            "The Quidditch match.  The final.  Gryffindor v. Slytherin." 

            "But Dean's in Gryffindor," I protested, not comprehending.

            "Yeah and you're in Slytherin," Ron retorted like I had called Dean a bad name.

            "No I'm not," I protested.  "I'm in Gryffindor.  With you two."  I insisted.  They just stared at me.

            "Since when?"  Blaise asked.

            "Since I got Sorted there."  Hermione spoke up again.

            "Hate to break it to you, hun, but you're a Slyth."  I gaped at her.

            "How?  Are you people pulling a trick on me?  This isn't very funny," I glared at them.  Understanding flashed through Hermione's eyes.

            "Harry, I want you to just answer my questions.  And I don't want you two saying anything," she added glaring at Ron and Blaise.  I nodded my agreement.

            "How old are you?"

            "16."

            "Year and House?"

            "Sixth year Gryffindor Prefect."

            "You play Quidditch?"

            "Seeker since my first year."

            "Who are you parents?"

            "Were," I corrected.  "Lily and James Potter.  Murdered by Voldemort when I was one.  I survived the Killing Curse."

            "Who do you live with?"

            "My aunt, uncle, and cousin.  The Dursely's"  She held up a mirror.

            "Is this you?"  My eyes widened in surprise at what the mirror was showing.  Damn, I look good.  Wordlessly I shook my head.

            "How are you different?"

            "I'm a carbon copy of my dad, except for the scar and my eyes."  Hermione nodded, pleased with herself.

            "Here's my theory: I think you've somehow drifted from an alternate universe.  One where James Potter really is your father."

            "You mean he's not!?"  I exclaimed, shocked.  She shook her head.

            "Not in this universe."

            "Then who is?"  I asked in a whisper, not really wanting to hear the answer but necessity dictated that I ask the question.

            "Severus Snape," she whispered.  I shook my head emphatically (see Snape I do know some big words).

            "Not possible that that greasy git is my father," I protested.

            "Harry, this is a different world.  Anything is possible."  During this whole time, Ron and Blaise were sitting quietly, watching what was happening.

            "So this isn't really me?"  I hoped not.

            "Not really.  Your personality is stuck in Harry Snape's body."

            "So we're two different people?"  She nodded.

            "From two different realities?"  She nodded again.

            "Well that's alright, then."  She smiled and Ron came forward and sat on my bed.

            "You do seem different," he said, squinting at me.  "Less sarcastic.  Less Slytherin-ish."  Blaise joined him as I pulled up my feet to make more room.

            "You're going to have to be a Slytherin, though, to fool everybody into believing that you're a Snape," she pointed out and Ron nodded.

            "Well then," I said briskly, swinging my legs out of the bed.  "How about we get the hell out of here and go somewhere where you guys can give me a crash course in how to be Harry Snape."

~*~*~*~*~*

Thanx 2 all reviewers.  Keep reviewing.  If you haven't reviewed yet, that's okay.  Just do so now.  It's painless.


	5. Dumbledore bashing

Harry Snape stuck in Harry Potter's body POV.

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            Hermione gave the password (sarklefish) to the portrait of the Fat Lady and we entered the Gryffindor Common Room to much applause.  Seems all those dumbass Gryffs thought they needed to have a party to celebrate my triumphant return to world of consciousness in which Gryffindor had just won the Quidditch cup.  Thank whatever deity that uses humans as his or her soap opera that Slytherins don't behave in such a manner.  The only parties we throw are 'Mudblood' bashing parties and I'm not so big on them.  I spent over an hour fending off exuberant Gryffs before I had a chance to drag Ron and Hermione away from prying ears.  I asked Hermione to take us to the Prefect rooms seeing as I didn't know where they are.  She looked at me funny, but led us out the portrait hole and down the hall.  She stopped in front of a suit of armour wearing a crown of pansies and gave it a password (pumonious freneria).  The room was, of course, red and gold.  Trust the Gryffindors to be typical in their decorations.  Lord, I missed the Slytherin Common Room.  And my own room, just down the hall from my father's.  But I rarely stayed there.  There were four doors leading off the main room.  Each room had a plague.  On the right were Hermione and Ginny Weasley's rooms.  On the left were mine and Colin Creevey's.  I opened the door to my (Potter's really) room and gestured them inside.  They hesitated, but complied.  I quickly set the strongest sealing spell I knew on the room.  Hermione gasped.

            "What?"  I asked, a little annoyed.  I already knew what she was going to say.

            "That's Dark Magic, Harry," she whispered in horror.  I snorted.

            "Only because it was a Dark Wizard who invented it."  I shrugged.  "It's not dangerous."  She wouldn't give up.

            "Oh yes it is.  Only you can unseal this room now.  You could do anything to us and no one would know."

            "But I'm not, so what's the problem?"  She gave a Look.

            "Harry Potter would never use a Dark spell."  She gave me the perfect opening.

            "Well I'm not Harry Potter."  Ron looked scandalized.  Hermione nodded.  She had suspected something wasn't right.

            "Then who are you?"  She asked.  I bowed.

            "Harold Maximian Snape at your service, fair lady."  She giggled and Ron's eyes widened.  Combined with his scandalized look, he appeared ridiculous.

            "Stop that, you have taken on the semblance of a fish," I snapped at him.

            "How?"  Hermione asked, drawing my attention back to the important issue.

            "Apparently I've stumbled into some sort of alternate universe.  One where James Potter is my father."  And so I launched into a description of my whole life thus far.  A condensed version, of course.  Ron just stared at me when I finished.  He was beginning to annoy me.  Of course, it's not like I really liked the Ron in my world, but he was much better than this idiot who only used his mouth to shovel food into.  Not that I'm fond of people who natter on and on, mind you.  I just don't like people who are too stupid to say anything remotely sensible.  Hermione had been leaning forward in her chair, straining to hear every word that came out of my mouth.  When I finished, she sat back and crossed her arms thoughtfully.  Pay close attention for what she says next was the first evidence I understood that pointed out that she was different from my Hermione.

            "We should go to Dumbledore," she said.  I gaped at her as I saw Ron nod his agreement out of the corner of my eye.

            "Are you crazy?"  I screamed.  So much for self-control.  "That self-serving fool will only make things worse!"  Now they were starting to get angry.

            "How is Dumbledore a self-serving fool?"  Ron yelled.

            "Name one thing he's done to help anyone but himself," I retorted.

            "When he saved you from Quirrel in first-year."

            "Who do you think Voldemort would have killed first, if I was already dead?"

            "Didn't expel us in second-year?"

            "How do you think the Wizarding world would have treated him if he had expelled the Boy-Who-Lived?"

            "He believed us in third-year?"

            "That didn't help us.  Fudge didn't believe him.  No one believed him.  Until they saw the proof."  Hermione looked at me suspiciously.

            "What proof?"  I grinned sadistically.  I guess Pettigrew was still loose in this world.

            "Pettigrew's head on a stick."  The two Gryffindors grimaced.  It was Ron who finally broke the uncomfortable silence that had gathered upon my pronouncement.

            "When he got you away from Crouch in fourth-year?"

            "That whole year was nothing but selfishness.  He let me stay in the Tournament because it meant more publicity for him.  He should have known something was wrong with Moody.  My father tried to warn him all year that Voldemort was getting stronger, but he didn't listen.  He should have seen the magic that Crouch put on the Cup to make it a Portkey.  My father told me his spectacles are spelled to see magic.  Once again, how would the world have viewed him if I had died right under his nose?  That man is as bad as Voldemort.  Or maybe he's worse.  I'm not sure." I fell into a contemplative silence, ignoring the jabbering my friends were doing at my declaration.  My father argues that Dumbledore is not nearly as bad as Voldemort.  I disagree.  I know what it is to be used by both of them.  The difference was, with Voldemort, I knew I was being used.  He didn't hide anything from me.  It was all very straight forward.  Dumbledore, though.  He twisted my mind.  Believing I was doing the 'right' thing.  The 'good' thing.  And I hate him for it.  He lied to me, and that's the worst thing anyone can do.  The 'truth' is a powerful thing.  And, whatever it is, it shouldn't be hidden away, or lied about.

            "He did make you live with the Dursely's when you could have stayed with Ron or even me."  I grinned.  Hermione was now in agreement with me.  Ron looked at us like we were insane and perhaps I am.  Hermione moved over to the couch where he was sitting and whispered something in his ear that made him blush.  The second thing she whispered made him look guilty.  They stood up together.

            "So we agree," Ron said standing next to me.  "Now what?"

            "Now we steal some things."

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Thanx to Anja and rayvern for their reviews.  See, if you review, you'll get special mention.  So review!


	6. Meet the Father

Harry Potter stuck in Harry Snape's body's POV.

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            "Where are you guys taking me?"  I finally asked, after having been lost in the dungeons.  The only things I knew of down there were the Potions classroom and the Slytherin Common Room.  I shuddered at the thought of going in there again but resigned myself to that.  Snape was a Slytherin and I was stuck in his body.  So that made me, technically, a Slytherin. Eurgh.  

"Somewhere," Blaise replied vaguely.  Damn all Slytherins.  Hermione dropped back to walk beside me.

"We're going to see Professor Snape," She explained.  "He'll know what to do about this and how to get you home."  I looked at her like she was crazy and I believed her to be.

"You're going to have to be open to whatever happens here.  My Harry is.  He's very accepting of things so you'll have to be, too."

"What does that have to do with anything?  Why are you taking me to see Snape?  Why would he help?  How do you know he's not going to just turn me over to Voldemort?"  My three companions stopped dead.  Blaise turned on me viciously.

"I don't care who you are," she hissed.  "Severus is the best man I know.  He loves his son very much and he'll help you, just so he can get Harry back.  So you just shut the hell up about things you don't know about."  With that she turned around again and led us further down the passage.

"So Voldemort is still a threat in your world?"  Hermione asked as a conversation starter.  I nodded.

"He got his body back at the end of my fourth year.  He keeps getting stronger and stronger.  Hogwarts only goes up through sixth year now.  The seventh years go to war.  I almost got sent away this year, but Dumbledore convinced the Ministry that it was better for me to learn all I could this year rather than get myself killed by challenging Voldemort too soon."  I fell silent, contemplating.  Everyone expects me to be so good.  To be the one to defeat the bad guy.  But did any of them ever stop to wonder what I want?  Not that I don't want to defeat Voldemort, but why me?  Dumbledore is far more powerful than I'll ever be.  Why can't he do it?  I almost ran into Ron's back.  We had stopped and Blaise knocked on a door.  

"Enter," called a voice I knew so well.  Except usually it was taking points off.  We entered and I found myself in a cozy little sitting room.  The walls were stone, but they were covered in pictures of, well, me.  My first step, my first word, my first broomstick ride (which was younger than my first step).  All were recorded in pictures.  Snape was sitting at a desk in a room that opened off of the one we were in.  He was grading papers.  He got up as we entered.

"What is wrong?"  He asked.  "And who are you?"  He asked again, turning to me.  I gaped at him.  He shooed my friends out of the room.  The last thing I saw was Hermione smiling sympathetically at me before the door closed.  He turned back to me.

"I ask yet again, who are you?  You are not my son, although you are in his body."

"Harry Potter," I stated meekly.

"Speak up, boy," he snapped.

"I'm Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter does not exist," he stated calmly, settling back into an easy chair.  I perched nervously on the edge of the sofa.

"Hermione thinks I'm from another universe.  In my world, I am Harry Potter, son of Lily and James Potter."  He sat thoughtfully for a moment.

"What is the last thing you remember?"  He inquired.  I thought back.  Hermione said Snape was in a Quidditch accident.  I remembered screaming students, a flash of gold, diving for the Snitch.

"Playing Quidditch," I replied.

"What happened, boy?  I need the exact sequence of events."

"I saw the Snitch and dove for it.  Malfoy did the same.  He must've run into me as I caught it."

"What's Malfoy have to do with anything?"

"He's the Seeker for Slytherin.  I'm the Seeker for Gryffindor."  Snape nodded.

"Here's what I think happened.  You were in a Quidditch accident in your world.  My son was in the exact same accident here at the exact same time.  Your realities were so close at that moment, that the force of the collision knocked you into each other's bodies.  My poor son is stuck in your body in your reality."

"That makes sense," I agreed.  My God, I agreed with Snape!  What is this world coming to?  "What now?"  A very scary, sadistic grin spread across my teacher's face.

"Now we make you Harry Snape.  I hope you're a quick learner."  And so began the education of Harold James Potter.

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You like?  You no like?  I don't care!  Just review.


	7. He's Not Here To Be Liked

For those of you who care to know, this is Snape's stuck in Potter's body POV

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Hermione kept watch under Potter's Invisibility Cloak while I obtained the ingredients I needed to test Potter's lineage.  The Severus in this world did indeed use the same type of protections.  I tell him all the time he needs to come up with more clever passwords.  I mean, its so easy to guess that 'The Marauders should burn in Hell for all eternity' is his password. Everyone knows he hates the Marauders, dead or alive.  Anyway, I got the ingredients without a problem and Hermione and I whisked up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.  Ron met us there with a cauldron and a few other ingredients that I hadn't needed to steal. 

 As I brewed away, Hermione and Ron told me all about being Potter.  I don't mean to offend, but he's pathetic.  He never does anything to help himself, it's always for others.  In short, he's a Gryffindor, through and through.  It'll be easy, playing him.  I just have to be brave, humble, and good at Quidditch.  The whole bad at Potions thing isn't gonna work for me.  I'm going to have to plan ahead how to ruin random potions.  

The potion wasn't a particularly difficult one, but it called for my least favorite ingredient, blood.  Blood is cool when it's somebody else's.  I don't like cutting myself.  Well actually I do, but that's why I don't like putting my blood in a potion.  I want to live, but it fascinates me.  The pain.  The fact that it's so red.  I picked up the knife and turned to Hermione.  I offered her the object, hilt first.

"You do it."  She looked at me like I was crazy.  She might have a point there.

"I don't want to hurt you," she protested.  Ron was just standing there, clueless as usual.

"Look, Hermione, if I do it, I'm not so sure I'll be able to stop cutting myself.  I had a huge problem with that before I managed to find a release.  So it would be better if you kept a hold of that knife."  She nodded and grabbed it.  I offered her the palm of my hand.  She lightly drew the blade across my flesh and I felt the metal bite into my hand.  It felt good.  I stared at the blood welling out of the cut before realizing I was doing it again.  I tipped my hand and let the life-giving plasma drip into the cauldron.  The potion hissed and bubbled as Hermione hastily bandaged my hand.  A dark, smoky shadow came out of the cauldron.

"What do you wish to know?"  It asked in an impersonal, sexless voice.  I stepped forward.

"Who was my father?"  I demanded.  It looked at me.

"Why the man who slept with your mother."  It seems It had a sense of humor.

"What was his name?"  I rephrased.

"James Potter."  I nodded grimly.  I thought so.  But It spoke again. 

 "But there is another male presence that is almost as strong in you."  I didn't have to ask.  I knew who that would be.

"And what is his name?"  I asked for the benefit of my friends.

"Tom Riddle, although he goes by Lord Voldemort most of the time."  Of course.  Who was I expecting it to be?  My father?  Bull shit.  Not in this lifetime.  Here he really did hate the Marauders and James Potter really was my father.  I have no tie whatsoever to Severus Snape.  It's an interesting feeling.  Going from one man being the person you count on most.  The only man you can count on.  To him being a greasy-haired git of a Potions Master.  It's not a good feeling.  I don't like it at all.  He would say he's not here to be liked.  Well then. 

 I knew there was no way I could get out of this without his help and I doubted that the father I knew could get Potter home without my help.  I needed to pay a visit to the dear Death Eater.  Or is he?  In my world he was never true.  Always a spy.  But here?  My mother and I were the reasons he became a spy.  Maybe he truly is a loyal Death Eater.  Only one way to find out.  

"Do you require any other knowledge of yourself?"  It inquired, startling me out of my contemplation.  I shook my head and It and the potion simply disappeared. 

"Leave," I ordered Ron and Hermione.  They exchanged glances and left.  I waited a minute to make sure they were gone and grabbed Potter's Cloak.  It was nearing midnight when I finally made it to his rooms.  I had to make a few guesses before I gave the correct password.  He was sleeping peacefully.  Unusual for a man who murders innocents as his after-school job.  I slid the Cloak off and perched on the edge of the bed. 

"Why hello, professor!"  I stated jauntily in a conversation voice.  Not too loud, that is.  He jerked awake.  He blinked owlishly a few times before his brain caught on.

"Potter!  What are you doing here?  How did you get here?"  I do believe the man shook dust from the rafters.  I smiled craftily.  His smile, actually.  He freaked.

            "What the hell is going on?"  he yelled.  "Ten points," I interrupted him before he go any further.

            "Now, now Professor.  Think of what you are doing before you say anything else.  How can you be so sure that I am Potter?  How would Potter know how to get into your private rooms?  Maybe I'm someone else stuck in Potter's ugly body.  Someone who knows you well enough to know how to get into your rooms."  He looked at me strangely, like I was something from a dream.  He raised his wand and pointed it straight between my eyes.

            "Get that out of my face," I protested, swatting it away.  "You wouldn't hurt Potter's body, because then you'd be stuck with me forever and trust me, Professor, I'm a hell of a lot worse than Potter ever could be."

            "Who are you then?"  He asked.  He hadn't quite gotten his usual Snape-ishness back, but he was working on it.  I grinned.

            "Just so you don't freak, cuz I really don't know what's going on around here, I'm from another world.  An alternate universe if you will.  How one tiny detail can change everything.  People, events.  All changed because of one thing."

            "Are you going to tell what that is or are you just going to sit there and babble on and on and make me even more curious as to what's going on here?"  I raised my eyebrows at him.

            "If you interrupt me, it'll be even longer before you find out what's going on.  And no matter how curious you are about me, it doesn't even come close to the curiosity I'm feeling as to what's going on at my home."  I paused for a moment to make sure he was really listening.

            "My name is Harold Maximian Snape.  You are my father, Lily Evans was my mother.  You and Mum decided when she got pregnant with me that it too dangerous for her and me to be connected to you.  So you staged a 'scandal' that Lily was having an affair with James and was going to have his baby and you 'dumped' her and he 'married' her. 

             "I was born several months later and was christened Harold James Potter with Sirius Orion Black as my godfather.  You told us Voldemort was after us because of that stupid damn prophecy but you and Mum decided I was still safer as the son of James Potter.  Pettigrew was the Secret-Keeper.  

            "You didn't know about the attack.  He took no one with him.  You felt it when he was defeated.  You came to Godric's Hollow and got me out of there.  All it took was a blood test and I was declared your son.  I became Harold Maximian Snape and came to live at Hogwarts with you.  And that's my life in a nutshell," I concluded with a wry laugh.  He looked at me appraisingly.

            "What happened during your school years?  What House are you in?"  I stopped him before he could go on.

            "I was Sorted into Slytherin, but I've turned tradition on its ears.  Two of my closest friends are in Gryffindor and I'm actually engaged to be married to Hermione soon after we graduate.  In my first year, Hermione, Ron, and Blaise Zabini, my very best friend and sister, helped me keep the Dark Lord from finding the Sorcerer's Stone.  

            "In my second year, the Chamber of Secrets was opened and Muggle-Borns kept getting Petrified.  I finally ventured into the Chamber and killed the basilisk, saving Ginny Weasely, and keeping the school from being shut down.  

            "In my third year, Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban, and even though you hate him and all, I managed to see past the prejudices you had instilled in me to believe in his innocence.  

            "In my fourth year I was the fourth champion in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.  The Dark Lord gained his body back that night.  

            "My fifth year was the most normal I ever had.  No one tried to kill me, with the exception of a few Bludgers.  The only problem was that you had returned to the Dark Lord, to spy for Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix.  And you know what happens to the children of Death Eaters.  It happened to you.  However the Dark Lord decided that I would live and serve him.  Even with that damned prophecy.  That year you were ordered to turn me against Dumbledore and make me loyal to the Dark Lord.  And for all he knew, it worked.  

            "I joined his ranks not a week into summer.  But I was not allowed to leave his side.  I was to be trained as his heir, for he could not achieve immortality and he knew it.  But I screwed up his ingenious plan with a knife in his back on my birthday.  I inherited your sense of irony."  I stopped to let him process all the information.  I didn't expect theatrics or surprised looks.  I wasn't disappointed.

            "What do you want?"  He demanded.  

            "I hope you're not expecting me to be your father.  I'm hardly cut out," I interrupted him again.  He was starting to get pissed.

            "I am well aware of your after school job, Professor."  That did elicit a gasp of surprise.  I plunged onward.  

            "I need you to take me to the Dark Lord."  That got a good strong reaction out of him.

            "Why the hell would you want me to do that?  You are the only way he's going to be defeated.  The only weakness the Dark Lord has.  Albus would murder me if I just turned you over to him."  Bingo.  That was what I needed to hear.  I cast a silencing spell on him before he could rant any longer.

            "Relax, that was just a test.  I needed to see where your loyalties lie in this world.  Glad to see you're not evil, Professor."  He nodded and motioned for me to take the charm off.  I shook my head and he, for lack of a better word, growled.

            "I still need to drop another bombshell."  He stopped growling and settled for a glare.  I nervously licked my lips.  There was no telling how he would react to this.  

~*~*~*~*~*

Make me happy and review?


	8. Being Harry Snape

This is Potter stuck in Snape's body's POV.

~*~*~*~*~*

            He didn't let me sleep at all that night.  He kept me up, dosing me with potion after potion to keep me awake and heighten my senses to the degree that Harry Snape's were.  When I was given a moment to think about things, I realized how everything in this was the same.  That is, everything that was different stemmed from just one difference.  And that was the fact that here I was Snape's son.  Amazing really.  How one thing can change the course of events.  At least there's no Voldemort to worry about here.  He killed him.  Last year.  But he has the Dark Mark.  I wear the Dark Mark.  It still hasn't been explained fully to me yet.  I don't completely understand, but I don't think that either Snape is evil.  

            All too soon, it was time to go to breakfast.  I wanted to go up to the Great Hall, but Snape said I wasn't ready yet.  He ordered food from the house-elves.  He further instructed me while we ate.  After we finished, he escorted me to my first class, Potions with the Hufflepuffs.  Of course his son did well enough to make it into the NEWT Potions class.  I only got an A on my OWL.  Not nearly good enough to get into the class.  Blaise was in it though, and I was paired with her for the potion that day.  It was really hard, and when she learned that my potion making skills were at best 'Acceptable', she wouldn't let me near the cauldron.  I just got to chop and measure.  Malfoy and his cronies fell into step with Blaise and I as we headed to Transfiguration.

            "Where were you at breakfast, Snape?"  He sounded almost, well, nice.

            "Go fuck yourself, ferret," I replied.  I really don't like him.  Apparently, that comment was off enough to shock him into freezing while Blaise and I carried on alone.  She had this look of shock on her face.

            "What the hell was that?"  She asked.

            "What was what?"

            "Granted, we're not close friends of the Malfoys, but there's no need to be rude.  He never did anything to us.  And what was the ferret thing?"  I ignored everything but her question.

            "In fourth year we had a duel in the hallway.  He tried to hit me after I started to walk away and our Defense teacher that year, Crouch Jr. disguised as Mad-Eye Moody, turned him into a ferret and bounced him around the hallway.  It was quite entertaining."  She was still laughing as we entered McGonagall's classroom.  

            She led me to seats between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw section and we sat in the middle.  We're a sort of bridge between all the houses.  Respected and admired by Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and something or othered by the Gryffindors.  With them, it's mostly the fact that we're friends with the resident genius and Quidditch Keeper.  And being the Boy-Who-Lived has something to do with it, I suppose.  Lunch was interesting.  Blaise and I were joined by Hermione and Ron at one end of the Slytherin table.  We alternate meals.  Switching tables every day.  Today we were Slyths, tomorrow we're Gryffs.  That's Blaise's saying, not mine. 

            After lunch was Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors.  Then Ron had  Divination, Blaise had Muggle Studies (she was the only Slytherin taking that class) and Hermione and I had a free period.  She rushed me downstairs to my room next to Snape's (he was teaching) and continued to educate me about being a Snape.  This time on the social aspects instead of the mental ones.  Blaise had been my best friend forever.  Hermione wouldn't tell me why, saying Blaise needed to be the one, but Snape adopted her after Christmas of our second year.  We were about as close as two people could be.  Then she dropped a ringer.  I am engaged!  To Hermione!  I am going to marry her!  She almost seemed to sense my questions.

            "Don't worry about the fact that you haven't been acting like my fiancé.  Not many people know we're even going out.  We've never been given to public displays.  Moving on," She really didn't seem to want to talk about her relationship with Snape.  I wonder why?  Could she miss him?  Her next phrase got his attention.  "Something you should know about Blaise, she's the resident slut of Hogwarts."

            "What!"  I was astonished.  "You mean to tell me that she is a is a," I couldn't finish that sentence.

            "Harry is probably the only guy above fourth year that hasn't slept with her."

            "Even Ron?"  She laughed loudly at that.

            "Harry bet Blaise she couldn't stay with the same guy for a week.  She agreed and even took it as far as two weeks.  He thought she really liked him.  He's gonna get a shock when he gets back."

            "But she seems so nice," I insisted.

            "She is nice.  Harry, you have to understand that just because she does things you're not used to your friends doing, it doesn't mean that she's not a good person.  She's just a little confused, that's all.  Blaise told me earlier you had a run-in with Malfoy," she was obviously trying to change the subject.  "Just for future reference, you should never use the word 'fuck' in relation to Malfoy.  It's something he would very much like to do to you."  She let me have a moment to digest that particularly unpleasant thought.  For unpleasant it is to me.  "Ron is at the moment unattached.  Oh, and for the longest time you thought you preferred the same sex and some people still think you do so don't be shocked if you get any, odd, offers."

            "Damn it this is weird!"  I finally exploded, not being able to hold it in any longer.  My emotions were running rampant.  "I can't take this.  I cannot do this!  It's too different, it's too new!"

            "It's too hard?"  Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes.  I nodded, tears in my eyes.  She stood up angrily.

            "Well, fine then.  Run away from your problems.  The Harry I knew never would run away from something like this.  And he's not even a Gryffindor."  Snape found me in the same place she left me an hour later.  He didn't say anything, just sat down next to me.

            "She's right, I'm being stupid.  It's not Harry's fault I'm stuck here.  I shouldn't screw up his life because I want to go home."

            "You want to be here about as much as we want you here."  I looked up at him.

            "You're not such a bastard, you know that?"  He burst out laughing.  Funny how I didn't think of it then, but I had never seen Snape laugh before.  He looked much younger, and almost handsome.

            "I'll take that as a compliment, young Potter."  We fell into silence.

            "How am I going to get back?"  I finally asked.  He stared at me for what seemed a long time before he answered.

            "I honestly don't know.  I have no idea where to even begin, but I'm sure my son does.  He will find the answer, I know he will."

            "He's smarter than you?"  I burst out before I could shut my traitorous mouth.  To my surprise, Snape wasn't even remotely angry.

            "Much more so.  He has Lily's common sense and talent for charms, as well as my logic and talent for potion making.  He is also rather gifted in the areas of Transfiguration and the Dark Arts."

            "I'm good at Defense Against the Dark Arts," I offered.

            "That's it?"

            "I'm okay at Charms, but I'm really no match for Hermione.  But I'm really good at Defense.   I've dueled Voldemort three times and have escaped unscathed all three."

            "Have you ever practiced the Dark Arts, Potter?"  His question took me by surprise.

            "Not really.  I've used the, the Cruciatus.  Only twice though.  Once on Bella Lestrange after she killed Sirius and once on Pettigrew.  They got away before I had the chance to kill them, though."

            "Sirius is dead in your world?"  He asked in a whisper.  I nodded, caught up in my grief.  The reality of his statement hit me.

            "You mean he's not dead here?"  He shook his head 'no'.  "I can see him?"

            "I suppose.  I don't really know where he is right now, but I'll send an owl asking him to come and maybe he'll be here before you leave."

            "Are you and he, do you, actually get along?"

            "Yes.  Sirius and I are the only ones left who remember Lily.  Every Halloween we get together and get stupendously drunk and reminisce on how things were and how they should've been."

            "What about Remus?"  I asked.

            "No one knows where he is.  He disappeared shortly after my son killed the Dark Lord.  Harry was the last person to see him and he won't tell us anything."  A pause, then, "What about in your world?"

            "He's alive and kicking.  He's been the longest-lasting Defense teacher we've had.  Two years.  He kept me alive after Sirius' death.  There were times when I just wanted to give up, I lost sight of what I was fighting for and why I was fighting, why it should matter to me.  Remus was always there for me.  I owe him my life."

~*~*~*~*~*

I'll end it on that uber-sweet note.  And as just a reminder I don't own any of this.  If you review I'll give you imaginary cookies!


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